Determination
by SomecallmeMichelle
Summary: With a heavy use of Determination and stubbornness Max convinces Mr.Wayne and Terry to teach her some self defense. Slight Terry x Max. (Tax is it called?)


"I still don't think this is a good idea" - One person spoke. A dark haired teenager, nearing adulthood, his features defined. He looked around at the place where they were, his eyes moving between each and every point of the room. His arms were held against his flat chest, crossed, almost as if he had been dragged here, something which, in actuality, he had almost really been dragged.

Not literally, because he still had enough strength in his body and force of spirit to not be simply pushed around like that...but when it came time to say no, he couldn't just say the two letter word to the afro-american beauty who stood some meters in front of him. He had tried...oh he had tried, and his employer, had definitively listed him a very large number of reasons why she shouldn't get involved in their job. Most of which could be traced back to the fact of how dangerous it was...Terry, the name of the dark haired teen, didn't want to put his friend in danger, but she had insisted. And so it was...

He looked at the room at which they stood once again. The room was sparsely illuminated. Though it was of decent size, at least a dozen meters at its widest point, the light fixtures at the top and at the sides gave just enough illumination that you could see the floor markings and the person at the other side of the room. Why were there markings? It was a training room of some sort., so they provided an useful guidelight .

"C'mon, Terr...don't be such a chicken, you've agreed to this." - The one with the darker skin tone, and the female build, for she was female, replied By the way she pushed her ankles against one another, not to mention the smile and the shine in her eyes, she was incredibly excited to be there. Her tone of voice was overjoyed and bubbly, almost as if it were audible joy.

Terry had to admit, despite the way it looked like she was teasing her, it did make him feel good, the way she felt so well.

But the vigilante, the protector of Gotham city, the inconspicuous teenager,who was actually a defender of the weak and the the poor couldn't let himself get distracted by such thoughts. While he loved every single moment he spent with the young woman in front of him, who had a name, her name being Maxine Gibson (but if you called her that you'd get a boot up your arse), or Max. - And he spent a lot of time with her, even more time than with her ex girlfriend and other friends. - Dana, Chelsea, Wille, whom he felt guilty and visited in prison (long story). -

This was serious. Even the old man, Bruce, had had to concede, and admitted that maybe teaching some self defense moves to Max wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. The girl did seem to be a magnet for trouble, and trying to help the new Batman, the one from the future (the present in their pov), made her even more of a target.

So this was why they were there, in a room graciously provided by Bruce, in Wayne manor. There was no use pretending that the one in support wasn't the old Batman when Max, smart as she was, had figured it out already, and really, who else had the resources necessary? Powers? Another Entrepreneur? Not very likely.

"Yeah, Max but…" - He eyed the clothes she was was wearing, her usual schbang, yellow, black, and...more black. Hey, it was the usual in Gotham, no use complaining. Personally Terry was more for somber clothes, he used black sure, but he didn't go for the yellows and the blues. But it went with her hair. He thought she looked awesome, as usual.

He wasn't looking at her to perform a grading on her clothing and styling however, he was looking at her for another reason entirely...her boots. Sure the weather in Gotham wasn't pleasant, and to wear boots made sense, most of the time, it snowed, a snow that mixed with the industry to drizzle into grey when it the floor, there were ditches, there was mud, despite the modernized city. But one thing in particular that stood about those boots was that they were heavy, and sharp. it looked like they'd hurt.

Terry had suffered plenty of scuffles and fights as Batman, the Neo Batman, but most of it had been while wearing his suit, which reduced the amount of damage suffered by hundreds of percents. To get a kick to the head, chest, or even the privates with that sort of boots...man that'd hurt.

"Yes? You know that I'll listen! C'mon let's do this!" - This was the determination that Terry so loved in Max. Once she got an idea in her head she never gave up on it, or hadn't she convinced to let her do this? He had to admit, he was impressed, he didn't think Bruce would ever bulge in something like this. He was stubborn, but she just kept pressing on and on, until he had finally given in.

"Alright, but we are going to do things my way!" - Terry could see that Max was going to object, she was already opening up her mouth. She was persistent in her ways, that one, yet Terry couldn't get himself to do things another way. This was no joke. - "No, no ifs, buts, or maybes.

This is serious stuff. The things I'm willing to teach you…" - He looked her straight in the eye, despite the distance. Terry had developed a strong stare throughout his time as a dark knight and it showed, the stare almost made Max tremble in her boots. - "Well they're serious stuff, you could get hurt, or I could get hurt, I'm not too worried about some low leveled thug in the streets of Gotham who'd try to assault you…" - He smiled, so that Max could see he was serious about this, easing her a bit, seeing as she was tensing up. - "But I don't want any of us to get hurt. Do you understand?"

And there it was. Despite the serious tone of his voice. - Despite the way his voice carried the threat of something that could go wrong, and the dangers that might befall both of them, leaving them both hurt; Crying and bleeding in the training room, and later in the asphalt or in the highways of the future. - Despite the way all the things could oh so easily go South, and lead them astray, Max wasn't worried. No, Maxine Gibson. - And she recoiled, acutely aware that someone might have used her full name, the name she hated so, and which would grant the user of it a bull up his or her ass; - Max - The african american girl, was ready for everything that would come from the training. She was after all learning in her own words "The schwayest way of self defense"

And while Terry had told her it was no joke. That those techniques were serious stuff that could harm her if not used properly, she wasn't worried. The girl was a genius, she was quick to adapt to any situation that came her way. And while the searches for the self defense classes (very hip in a crime filled Neo-Gotham) had left her with nothing but a few flash moves that would leave all but the barest of thugs laughing, her constant begging and pleading to Terry and his employer , had finally set their mark.

So now they set , ready to start their self defense classes. Well, mostly Max, Terry was already as prepared as he was ever as likely to be. Months and months of nightly practice developing and sharpening his senses. It was likely that further nights on the job would afford him further honing of his skills, but he was confident. Grinning even, as he was prepared to take on Max. Not that he judged her weak. He knew that Max had tricks up her sleeve, he knew that better than anyone, whom else would show up from behind and knock up the bad guy with a heavy metal object? He could deduct she had strength…

Not exactly the most noble of fighting styles, maybe, but hey, it had saved his butt, once or twice. And as he pondered all of that and observed the figure of Max, a couple of meters in front of him, he just bit his lip, uncertain.

Max, on the other hand, couldn't see what the big holdup was. She stared straight ahead, at Terry's face, where his lip was sunk between his white teeth, turning purple, and his gaze was avoiding hers, yet still absorbed in her figure. That was unbelievable! Was he refusing to fight because he was checking her out? Like a common crook?

Not that she wasn't flattered or anything...she had the goods, and she knew she had them. - She put a fair share of time of her life into keeping her goods in check. Not because it was something for boys to observe and to check out, but because it was something that gave her pleasure in doing, and exercising was also part of that routine. Plus who knew when you needed to run in that God-Forsaken-city? Terry provided the only patrolling the city ever had, if you didn't count the insufficient efforts Commissioner Gordon tried, though she did her best...but this was exactly why she needed those self defense classes! And she wouldn't get them if her teacher spent the class time checking her out!

"Terr…!" - She demanded to know, her pink hair too short to float by in the breeze created by the speed at which she moved, but still flaunting a couple millimeters. - She pushed a finger up to Terry's chin and lifted her own chin's up to Terry's neck. - "What's the big stinkin holdup! Are we going to fight or what?"

It was with satisfaction that she saw that even though she had no formal combat training, well except a couple basic self defense classes from some crap teacher a couple month backs, her posture and tone were still enough to scare even the dark knight. Not an easy feat to achieve. - She figured, as she regularly was delighted with tales of him jumping into burning buildings and the like.

"Look...Max" - Terry seemed to stare at the poking finger that was touching him in the chin with his eyes bulging out, almost like he didn't himself believe what he was seeing. But it was true, Max had poked him with one of her fingers, the pointing one on her right hand. Terry lifted one of his arms. He could think of at least a dozen ways to neutralise and disarm Max, putting her straight on her back. He could quickly grab her by the arm, or do a leg sweep or…

His mind had been trained for combat by Bruce. It was a mighty useful ability when out fighting crime but when between friends…? He sighed, this was what he was hoping to avoid, but it seemed Max was pushing him. Not that he'd blame her.

"I'll teach you the moves...take off your boots."

Max, finger still pointing, dumbly, at the air, for Terry had moved, just looked dumb-founded.

"Huh?"

Terry rubbed his temple, he had moved into the center of the training room, where several of the markings met. He explained the situation as he sized her up, as if she was a real opponent. She was a few inches shorter than him, but he knew better that to judge her based on only that. He quickly assessed all the information he knew on her.

Odds didn't look particularly good for him, but he had the training advantage, and they weren't really fighting, or he would be in trouble.

"You need to take off your boots, because while on a real fight they'd be a great aid, being heavy and pointy, I don't really fancy taking one in my ribs or face, and I know you can kick pretty high…"

She nodded, taking them off and kicking them to one corner of the room. Apparently satisfied Terry kept going with his lecture. Starring straight at Max and speaking in a calm, contemplative tone.

"After you size up and assess your opponent, that is you decide the best course of action in how to deal with the opponent, you proceed to attack him or her."

Max had her hand up in the air, and she was balancing on her ankles, wanting to speak. Terry had a whole new line ready, but he figured there was not a whole lot of harm in letting her speak. The further they delayed the actual physical contact the better for him, anyhow, right?

"So the Batman doesn't always go for the offensive strike?"

Terry rubbed his neck sheepishly, letting out a nervous smile.

"I used to….you know, the first month or so? Bruce used to hate that...and I got beat up more than I beat up others...then I realised, what was the point? Half the point of being Batman is using those fancy toys to track criminals and catch them in the act, then hand them over. So now that's what I do, catch over small fry and ….Deal with the big fry...myself."

He paused, catching up his air and regaining his wise sensei air, though the whole thing was upset by the fact he was barely past high school. He tried to remember what the one sensei he had had had told him, but she had met a fiery death not long after they had started training….

"So basically size up your opponent...I told you that already and react appropriately, if you can take them on then…"

The Batman from the future proceeded to show a series of basic moves and let Max practice on a doll that had risen from the floor. It was not as high tech as some of the stuff seen in the Cave or the training ground. And in fact it looked like something ripped from the last century, or the 90's. but it did its job. The mannequin reacted appropriately to the series of jabs that Max so purposefully hit it with. After a bit of this, Terry just observing Max hit it with punches and kicks until she sweated for over an hour. He came right over with a bottle of water.

"Thanks...I'm getting ready to fight...you, huh?" - Her speech was labored, as she drank huge amounts of water. Terry had to stop her from gulping down the whole bottle, as there was no point in drinking the whole thing in one go.

Terry bit his lip. The truth was, he did not want to fight Max at all, but he had promised her, and there was no better way of improving martial arts, than with a human opponent. Robots had evolved a lot over the last few years, but they were still far from perfect.

"Yeah…." - And his voice was distant and not very focused as he imagined fighting his best friend. It was something he definitively did Not want to even think about, but he owed her that. So…

"What are you thinking about Terr…?" - She put a hand on his knee, and he realised that even her hands were sweaty. It reminded him of the first days of the workout with . They had worked hard, yes they had, he was now more physically fit than ever, but those gruelling days had been so intense he had almost passed out at every turn, and he hadn't paid attention in class. Things with his (now ex) girlfriend Dana had turned sour, and overall he had been dead to the world. His family had even commented on that, mostly his mother, his brother didn't give two tosses about what his big brother did.

Still, if this what was Maxine wanted….who was Terry to say no to her? Max had many things, one of which was determination, yes, Max was determined as all heck.

So he had a lot on his mind, which made his reply of "Just stuff" all the more vague and cryptic, but not exactly a lie, after all, it was technically true...on a technicality, stuff, is stuff. right?

"I see...and what kind of stuff is that?" - Max wasted no time in digging into the center of the question, something which Terry was just hoping to avoid. Here they were, sitting against the edge of the room, their back against the badly lit walls, Maxie badly sweating, Terry with his paleness and smile, and here she was, asking the questions...

"Just...you know…" - He had hoped that his smile would be enough to falter any further questioning but, evidently, that hadn't been the case. The dark haired teen looked at the afro-american girl who sat next to him. She was using her other hand to wipe the sweat from her brow and readying herself to keep on fighting. A single thing came to Terry's mind as he observed her. - How determined she was.

It was that same determination that made her outweigh even the stubbornness of his employer. Impossible as that might seem (and that thought made him smile). It was that same determination that made her determined to be the very best student and confront a gang member, even putting herself in danger. It was that very same determination that made her discover who he was...and that made them both stand there.

"Are you checking me out again?" - Max might have been too exhausted to stand and accuse him with a finger to the throat again, but the smile was there. And at that moment, Terry realised she was joking.

"No, I was just thinking about how stubborn you are, even more stubborn than me and the old man" - He grimaced, certain that the old man had heard every word. - It had been after all, one of the conditions for the training, he could train her, but it had to be in a controlled environment, and the manor was carefully seen from the stone walls down below it. He was going to regret every word of this later. - "Sure, let's spare a bit. Try not to hit me, much."

He pulled himself upwards and helped her up, pressing a switch he pulled the mannequin down and prepared himself to dodge. The dodging came easily to him, he was in a much fitter shape that the girl, not to mention he had just stood and watched while she had been tiring herself kicking and punching for the last hour. Despite this she still got one or two good hits that would sting. Terry gently corrected the technique knowing full well that any and all blows with the correct technique would hurt tenfold, but doing his job. As he was expecting, whenever he got hit he doubled over in pain.

After a bit he could take no more he had to stop the fighting. Stopping to recover his breath he led her out of the manor.

Even though she should by all accounts be deader than dead, or at least as tired as they could, Maxie still found the energy to bounce on her steps, she had done it! She had knocked Terry down and learned some self defense moves! She was coming back for more even! Though Terry didn't seem particularly into it...maybe she had gone too hard on him?

"Hey Terr?" - Maybe she should ask him, she didn't think she had gone particularly hard. He was always going on about how brutal his dealings were, and she was just a teen who was training and...had she hurt him? - "Are you ok?"

Terry paused what he was doing to look at her, he was sure that his chest would have bruises in the morning, but he was glad for her, he really was.

"Yeah, why?" - He was at the door to the manor, just in front of the main gates, parked in front of it there was a car. - "I'm driving by the way, want me to drop you?"

"Schway thanks,,," - Max could see him enter, and so she entered as well, dropping by his side. Normally she didn't get to occupy this side seat, which was taken by , so she took it all in, as the backdrop quickly passed as they speed by.

"Just...be more careful next time?""

Maxine Gibson put a hand to Terry's shoulder, nearly causing a roadside accident as he tried to focus on the road and not on the african american beauty sitting next to him. He grinded his teeth. It seemed Max was dead set on having him be hurt today, even if not by her own fault. As they slowed down near her house, the travel having taken less than 20 minutes due to low traffic, and the fast speed of the car (Terry traveling fast), she did the universal symbol for a "Call me" which he agreed to.

He just loved her determination.

 **Author's Notes: I don't know exactly if this is a worthwhile ending but this is something I had scrambled here for sometime and decided to finish. So, thoughts? Reviews, opinions? Thanks.**


End file.
